


It ain't a crime being pretty

by dreamerbydawn



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Definitely bipolar Monica, Gen, Ian takes care of Monica, Insecure Ian, M/M, Mickey is NOT a fan of Monica, Monica does care, Non Bipolar Ian, Set after Ian returns, Triggers - Sex in exchange for drugs (mention), Triggers - feeling worthless, [Spring break draft clean up], established Ian and Mickey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-02
Updated: 2015-04-02
Packaged: 2018-03-20 21:23:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3665523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamerbydawn/pseuds/dreamerbydawn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ian's been dreading Monica's return for a long while now. But when Frank drags her back, and in the middle of her depressive episode, he pushes aside his issues to take care of her. If that later leads to Monica soothing his fears, then that's just what mothers are for aren't they?</p>
            </blockquote>





	It ain't a crime being pretty

**Author's Note:**

> I did a crap job with the summary, but this piece is something i'm actually proud of. It's my HC that a depressed Monica still listens to everything being said to her and Ian takes the chance to actually share...
> 
> Also, I strongly believe that no one should be judged for how they look. Pretty or unpretty by social standards, it hardly defines a person.

Mickey didn’t like to do the whole hand holding bullshit, but with how hard Gallagher was squeezing his fingers now, it didn't fucking matter. He couldn't feel them anyway. 

But he thinks he’s squeezing back, or hopes he is at least; Because Ian needs it now, desperately. His worst nightmare, the one he’s been waiting for, is finally here. 

He'd said it all those months ago, that she always comes back, but Mickey thought - no hoped - that maybe this time she wouldn’t. That the woman, who wrecked Ian over and over and still called herself his mother, would just stay away and let Ian be. 

But they'd gotten the text twenty minutes ago. Hurricane Monica was back, and the only thing Mickey could do now, was hope he was enough to keep her from breaking Ian another time. 

He stopped, almost at the porch of the Gallagher house, pulling Ian in for a burning kiss, trying to make sure he knew it too, knew Mickey would be here for him this time. 

Ian gave him the weakest of smiles before they headed inside to a house that was miraculously silent, especially with Monica in town. 

“Frank dragged her from wherever and dumped her in bed. We’re on suicide watch” Lip said without preamble as soon as he spotted them entering. 

“She’s fuckin depressed?” Mickey asks, glancing over to see how Ian was taking the news. 

The redhead ran a hand through his hair, took note of the full room with all his siblings and Lip’s girlfriend of the week as well, the only person missing being Fiona. 

“Fiona upstairs?” He asked.

“Trying to get her to eat” Lip shrugged.

Ian simply nodded, tugging at Mickey’s arm to make sure he follows, before heading upstairs. He can feel the questioning glances from his siblings at his back but he tries to ignore it for now. 

He focuses instead on the open doorway, Fiona standing just inside the room, telling Monica all the reasons she should eat the plate of food on the nightstand next to her. 

The eldest Gallagher sibling glances over at the pair of them as they enter the room, Ian once again trying for a weak smile, while Mickey stares at Ian’s mother for the first time.

Fiona’s about to say something to him, but Ian waves her away and walks over to his Monica instead.

“Hey Mom” He says quietly “It’s Ian” 

The words have Fiona’s jaw audibly clicking shut, because when was the last time any of them had called Monica that? She watches stunned as Ian climbs onto the bed. 

“And guess who else is here? Mickey fucking Milkovich.” He continues softly “Can you believe that? Mickey took me back mom, he actually wanted me again. Came to the club and dragged my ass back and everything” 

Mickey could feel his throat tightening as he heard Ian’s words, the awe in his voice when he told Monica about him clear despite everything else he knew Gallagher was feeling right then.

“I’m living with him now you know? And sometimes I can’t believe it’s real. But he’s here mom and I want you to meet him. Please? Can you look at him?” Ian was asking gently, trying to turn her around from where she was curled up facing the wall. 

Monica gave a little whimper, but Ian pulled her by the shoulder, coaxing her into turning around and half dragging her into his lap. 

“Mick, meet Monica Gallagher. Mom, that’s Mickey, can you say hi?” Ian asked, even as Mickey stared at familiar green eyes looking at him from the face of a blonde woman. 

He could see what Frank did, Monica had shared quite a bit of her features with her son, the identical eyes, the cut of the cheekbones, the full lips, even the freckles. And he could read the hurt in her eyes as she stared up at him. 

“It’s okay if you don't want to. He'll still be here when you get better. You will get better you know? Whatever is going on in your head, it'll go away soon. And then you can meet Mickey properly, right?” Ian sounded like a desperately lost child as he continued with the one sided conversation. 

Mickey could see Monica move her head in what was almost a nod, and she pressed in closer to her son, letting Ian hold her tight and shutting her eyes as he leaned down to kiss her head. 

“I love you mom” Ian confessed, voice breaking through the little sentence. 

And Mickey couldn't do it anymore. He couldn't stand in the room and not hate the woman that was destroying Ian by just being there.

She'd abandoned him and come for Liam instead, she'd cut herself and bled out on the kitchen floor on thanksgiving, she'd traded him for drugs when he went to her for help, and she was so sick, Ian had to hold her and tell her he loved her again. 

Ian, who had been a wreck each time and after her last stunt was so lost, it took Mickey forever to put him back together. Ian, who Mickey knew still had all those insecurities that Mickey himself had stemmed, but Monica had allowed to foster. 

She was sick, she had been trying to get him to have fun and get them drugs at the same time, she didn't know how much she was ruining him, but bipolar or not, high on drugs or not, Mickey couldn't forgive her. 

He stormed downstairs instead, heading straight for the alcohol in the kitchen, Fiona surprisingly on his tail. She grabbed a can of beer from the pack he opened and downed it in one go, just like he did. She might not know the details, but she was as disturbed by what had happened as he was. 

“What the fuck did I just see?” Fiona finally asked in a stunned voice. 

“Nothing I ever expected to see that’s for fucking sure” Mickey answered, sauntering past her and dropping heavily into a seat in the living room with the others. 

He wasn't lying. He knew Ian was easily forgiving, that had worked in his favor a few times, but he had never thought Ian would be able to sit with Monica and do what he just did. 

Fiona followed him again, taking up another empty seat and settling quietly, her mind still processing what she witnessed. No one really asked where Ian was, assumed he had taken over for Fiona, but if only they knew. 

One hour later, she was still trying to make sense of it when Ian came down the stairs, an empty plate in his hand. 

“You got her to eat?” Debbie asked, evidently surprised. 

“She’s not depressed anymore?” Carl wanted to know. 

“Ian?” Fiona called, wordlessly demanding her own explanation from her brother. 

Mickey however only noticed how wrung out the redhead looked, the effort of holding himself together showing plainly on him. 

“Hey Ian, c’mere” He ordered gently, green eyes lifting up to his face with the same despair he had seen in Monica. 

He opened his arm, motioning for Ian to come over again and after two seconds of silence, the taller boy obliged, crossing the room in three strides and crawling into Mickey’s lap, face pressed into the crook of his neck while Mickey secured his arm around him. 

All the Gallaghers stared in surprise, Mickey and Ian were, even after all these months, not the type to cuddle or do PDA bullshit. Apart from the shoving or the occasional punches, they kept their hands to themselves. 

Those rules, that image, it meant fuck all when Ian was practically trembling in his arms though and Mickey didn’t care, he was pressing light kisses all over the younger boy, his hair, his neck, the side of his face, anywhere he could reach while holding them together and rubbing soothing circles on his back. 

*

Ian refused to say a word. He shared nothing with his siblings no matter how hard they tried to push him, Mickey always stepping in when he knew Ian had had enough. 

Instead the third Gallagher child took on complete responsibility for Monica. He got Mickey to keep Frank the fuck out and stayed with his mother, holding her close, talking to her silently, making sure she ate, reading to her for a bit and even whispering that he loved her. 

He slept in the same room, leaning against the wall and mostly just sitting up through the night. Mickey would come in at some point, take a seat next to Ian and drag his head into his lap, card his fingers through Ian’s hair and let him sleep. 

Once he got a few hours of rest, he’d take a shower and freshen up before heading to the kitchen to get whatever food he needed and whatever he hoped would make Monica eat. 

The routine kept up for eight straight days, the rest of the Gallaghers not even questioning it anymore and finally letting Ian be, instead of hovering or watching from a distance. 

It was the first time he was truly alone with Monica, no one hanging around outside, Mickey away at work and he couldn't hold it in anymore.

“I want to hate you” He whispered to her “I want to be angry. I want to be so fucking pissed that you didn’t see what you were doing to me, because I think you didn’t. I don’t want to believe you just didn’t care.” 

He got no response from the woman curled up in bed of course and he hadn’t expected one. 

“I came to you because I had nowhere to go and you talked me into having sex in exchange for drugs. I know you said it was supposed to be fun, but you used me. You used me just like every other person mom. I wanted to stop believing I was only good for a fuck, that I was worth nothing beyond my body and instead of - you made me believe it more” 

Ian could feel his voice shaking, feel the wetness on his cheeks, but he didn’t try to wipe the tears away. He didn’t care if he cried. 

“You know what that feels like? Knowing I don’t matter to people at all? No one ever sees me, I never matter and when I do, it’s for sex. I’m so tired of being worthless. I’m tired of trying to blame you. You just did what everyone did right? I just - it would be so easy if I can blame you” 

Ian could feel himself shaking and curled up on the floor, simply allowing the darkness in the room to swallow him again, allowing him to cry himself out because words couldn’t express his inner demons anymore. 

*

Three days had passed since Mickey had found Ian on the floor in Monica’s room, tear tracks still visible against pale skin. He had said nothing of course, just silently glad it had been him that woke Ian up when he was that vulnerable. 

And now Ian was back in the kitchen, trying to make sandwiches for himself and Monica while steadily ignoring the silence in the room that followed him everywhere he went since his mother showed up. 

“Ian? Baby?” Monica’s voice interrupted, the Gallagher matriarch coming down the stairs. 

“You’re up” Ian stated the obvious, dropping the knife into the jar of peanut butter as he tried to process what was next. 

“Oh baby i’m sorry. I’m so so very sorry” Monica gushed, rushing over and enveloping him in her arms. 

Over her shoulder, Ian kept his gaze on Mickey, trying to wordlessly ask again what he was supposed to do because she wasn’t in manic depression anymore, and that meant he was allowed to acknowledge his feelings again.

Except he didn’t know what he felt. Monica continued a steady stream of ‘i’m sorry’s’ in his ear and Mickey clenched his hand in a fist, staying silent as he kept Ian’s gaze. 

“Ian? I never meant to hurt you. I promise I didn’t think I was hurting you baby. I would never” She begged as she drew back to look him in the eye. 

“Yeah, I know. I hate that I know that. But I know” Ian sighed, suddenly exhausted. 

“Do you sweetheart? Because really, I love you. I love you so much” She insisted, hand stretching out to brush against his cheeks and cradle the side of his face. 

“Okay” Ian nodded, because really, what more could he say?

“And you’re so beautiful” She added, startling a harsh laugh out of him. 

“I know.” he answered darkly, the fact that he was good looking was the problem anyway. 

“No baby, i’m not saying you’re pretty. I’m saying you are beautiful. In here” Monica clarified, hand now pressed against his heart. 

“You look so much like me sweetie and I have been told all my life i’m pretty. And you should never be sorry for how you look baby, you were just born that way. If people want to look at you and see how good you look, that’s their problem.” The woman continued, because looking good was not a sin, neither was a person's appearance something to be judged. 

“I’ve never cared about it and you shouldn’t either baby. And you’re better than me. So much better. You’re strong and sweet and brave. You’re the kindest person I know, and you should be proud of who you are Ian. I’m proud of you. I love you” His mother assured. 

Ian couldn’t do it anymore, he didn’t care who was watching or what they thought, they could just make up their own explanations, but right now he needed Monica’s words, he needed his mother’s promises and so he let himself fall into her arms, tears streaming down his face again. 

He felt her hands in his hair and her soft touches against his skin; and he remembered the day he had found Monica and how she held him just like now, with a gentleness he had never known, shushing him through his misery. 

“I missed you mom” He finally admitted, drawing back to wipe his tears away. 

“If you need me Ian, all you have to do is call. I’ll always come back for you baby” Monica promised, kissing his cheeks. 

“I know” He smiled, because for the first time, he really did. He believed her. 

When she was okay, Monica did care. About him, about his siblings, about the day she would spend with him and Mickey, and he could live with that. 

One good day a year was fine, he had Mickey with him to make every other day count anyway.

**Author's Note:**

> This piece if important to me for personal reasons, so if you liked it at all, please let me know here or on my tumblr! Thanks!


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